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In good times and in bad	By : kruemel Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 14749 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Dragon Age and the characters of the game do not belong to me. This is a no profit fanfiction

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
"So why are we doing this?" Morrigan isn't happy with Rori's decision. I am. Very happy indeed. I could kiss her just for that one decision - and for a whole lot of other reasons. If I ever dare to be that bold.
"Because it's the right thing to do. If we can save Connor we should give it a try. And it's not as if we're wasting time. We have to see the mages anyway." Rori explains for the umpteenth time.
"I agree. Just one question that's been bothering me," I interrupt their little quarrel. "There will be templars at the Circle of Magi and they will certainly know Morrigan is not one of their Circle mages. How do we explain her presence?"
"If anybody asks, she's a Grey Warden recruit," Rori decides after a moment of consideration.
"We lie to them?" I'm shocked. I mean, they are templars and they protect people from evil magic. Morrigan is evil and does magic. And we lie to them?
"Would you rather have them arrest Morrigan for being an apostate?" Rori seems to have no problems at all with deceiving the templars.
"Is that a question that requires an answer?" I ask. The prospect of getting rid of Morrigan... now, that's really something to look forward to.
"I so hate you," Morrigan hisses.
We set up camp close to the lake since we are all too tired to walk any further. I don't want to rest until we find help for Connor but in the end I have to give in when Rori almost collapses on the road. It has been a hard night and we didn't get any rest after the fight against the undead but went straight to Eamon's castle.
Rori has tried to organize some horses for us but failed. All horses in Arl Eamon's stables are dead. The stench was so horrible we both almost vomited before we even got to open the door. Whatever happened to the horses - it wasn't pretty. Not at all. Master Dennet so won't like this.
"And you think the demon will be a good demon and wait for our return before it tries to kill some more villagers," Morrigan snorts.
"I thought you didn't care about the silly villagers?" Rori is completely unimpressed by Morrigan's attitude. Or she is too tired to care. She doesn't even bother with her tent. She's asleep as soon as her head touches the ground. I put her tent up for her and carry her inside. To sleep in your armour is a very bad idea. You'll be sore for days. This is not just a lame excuse why I undress Rori. Her armour only of course. Barkley is watching me suspiciously so there's no chance I would make a wrong move.
I pull off her boots and chuckle when I see she wears rainbow coloured striped socks. She doesn't wake up when I make her sit to shed her out of her leather armour. Her head drops against my shoulder and she instinctively snuggles closer. I sit there, not daring to move. I don't WANT to move. I hold a half-naked girl snuggled to my chest and it's not just any girl but it's Rori. Her hair tickles my chin and I bury my nose in the softness of her strands, inhaling the scent of verbena. We are al unwashed and dirty, still this scent lingers on her.
Boy, I am so thankful I dared to ask Sten to help me with my armour earlier. This feeling of her warm body so close to mine, the softness of her skin against my palm where my hand rests on her thigh, it's a whole new experience. And it's so damn hot. Yeah, you laugh! But I grew up in a monastery.
Rori stirs in my arms, nuzzling the crook of my neck as she does so. She mumbles soflty in her sleep. It's hardly audible, a whisper against my bare skin and still it makes shivers run down my spine. "Alistair..."
I'm bewitched.
Until Morrigan pokes her head through the entrance and glares at me. "What are you doing in here, you sneaky deviant?"
"That's none of your business," I snarl. The spell is broken. I put Rori down and wrap her into her blanket. Barkley drops down next to her and the way he growls leaves no room for interpretation. I'm being dismissed.
"I do wonder. Is it permissible for two Grey Wardens to... oh, what is the word I search for?" Morrigan remarks when I crawl out of Rori's tent.
"Canoodle?" I offer against my better judgement.
"Fraternize." Morrigan corrects me.
"What's wrong with fraternizing?" I wonder.
"It seems most undisciplined, for an organization that claims it will do whatever is necessary to end the darkspawn threat."
"One thing has nothing to do with the other." Really, what is her problem? Rori and I, we're a team, right? We work together quite well even after such short a time. That I... uhm... like her... a bit... okay, a lot... that doesn't change a thing, does it?
"Oh no? And what if a Grey Warden was forced to choose between the Warden he loved and ending the Blight? What should his choice be?" Morrigan asks nonchalantly, arching one eyebrow as she looks at me quizzically.
"That is a... a ridiculous question," I snort, angry with myself that her question bothers me at all. It's a really ridiculous and stupid question! The Blight would destroy everybody and everything. What kind of choice would that be?
"And I have my answer. Most kind of you."
Couldn't she crawl into a bush and die? That would be great. But of course she doesn't! Instead after a moment of silent contemplation, the nasty witch goes: "There is one thing I do not understand, Alistair."
Did I miss something? Is it Bug-Alistair-Day?
"Just the one thing?" I could name a thousand things she doesn't understand from altruism to zeal.
"About you, perhaps. Why the deception over your parentage?" Morrigan stays completely unperturbed by the fact that I turn my back on her and begin to put up my own tent.
"I'd figure you'd be the sort who knows all about deception," I mutter. I really don't want to talk about it. This.
"I do. And what use the deception might have had ended when King Cailan perished, did it not?" Morrigan saunters past me, watching me struggle with the tent.
"Maybe. I guess I was sort of hoping that would go away." Like I am sort of hoping Morrigan would go away. Just such things never happen.
"The truth does not 'go away'." Morrigan snorts.
"I didn't say it was a good plan," I snap. I could try to explain but why make the effort when she's unable to understand?
"Unsurprisingly," Morrigan observes.
What to do with the rest of the night? I don't feel tired at all. Maybe I should go and strangle Morrigan. Now wouldn't that be fun?
Instead I return to my tent and toss and turn, unable to sleep. My thoughts keep returning to Rori, the sensation of her body so close to mine, the softness of her skin and hair, her intoxicating scent. It's thrilling in a way that causes my body to react. I haven't even kissed her. I don't know if she cares for me - not for sure - but here I am lying in my tent with a major hard on when thinking about her.
It's tempting to allow myself to get lost in my fantasies and seek satisfaction by my own hands. But it doesn't feel right. It feels like defiling her. Rori becomes more precious to me with every day passing. She's not just some sexual object I'd think about when jerking off.
So I lie there in the dark and suffer and try to think about something that would totally turn me off. There's a whole lot unpleasant things on my mind. With all the events that have happened I don't run out of them - but in the end it's thinking about Morrigan that puts an end to my sexual tension. I so wish she'd put on some clothes so that I didn't have to watch her breasts swing when she walks. It's not as if I watch deliberately - just try not to stare at a woman's breasts when she hardly bothers to cover them. It's impossible!
The more I think about Morrigan the less I believe I will be able to have another erection for the rest of my life.
Eventually I fall asleep and only wake when dawn breaks. Sten hasn't woken me for my watch. He still sits at the campfire when I sleepily crawl out of my tent. He looks as if he's asleep but he is not. I don't know how he does it. It's some kind of meditation and it allows him to go without sleep far longer than the rest of us.
I take my backpack and search for a place at the shore of the lake that provides some privacy. Barkley has eaten my soap. That dog devours anything he can get. Rori gave me one of her verbena scented bars instead. The scent brings back memories of last night. I wash, enjoying that I am wrapped up in Rori's scent now. Then I prepare for my shaving ritual. Templars have to be very disciplined. At least they should be. I don't claim to be an outstanding example. Anyway, rituals in our daily routine help us to be disciplined. One of my rituals is my daily shaving.
I do it every morning if possible. If I don't then we are either in the middle of a fight or surrounded by darkspawn or dead.
First I lay out my utensils. My razor, my shaving brush, the soap and the small mirror shard. I carefully soap my face and arrange the mirror on a rock. But this time the mirror slips and shatters when hitting the ground.
Blast it! I curse under my breath. Now here I am with my face covered with soap and my mirror gone. I figure I will have to wash my face and get going without my morning routine. I hate it when this routine gets disturbed.
"I can do it for you." Rori's voice startles me. I almost cut myself with the razor blade. How long has she been standing there?
She looks like she has just crawled out of her tent. Her hair is a tousled mess. She only wears her shirt and her rainbow coloured striped socks, wet with dew. She didn't bother to put on boots but she brought her swords.
I am very well aware of how her eyes rake over my shirtless torso. Yep, I am a handsome bastard. She knows and so do I.
I hand her the razor. "Try not to cut my throat."
"And deal with the Blight all alone?" The way she holds the razor I can tell she knows what she's about to do. "Please take a seat, Ser." She motions for me to sit on the rock and I hurry to obey. She tests the sharpness of the blade, then sets to work. The blade glides across my skin smoothly. There's neither too much pressure, nor are her movements hestitant. I let out a sigh of relief. I haven't even noticed i was holding my breath.
Rori grins. "Afraid I could hurt you?"
"I wouldn't have given you that razor if I was."
She picks up a towel and wipes the last remains of soap from my face. Then her fingertips whisper across my skin. It sends a shiver down my spine. "Here, you go. As smooth as a baby butt."
"Are you calling me a butt head?"
"No, but a baby face." And then she bends down to kiss my cheek. Her lips only brush across my skin and still the softness of her touch burns into my heart. I am still gawking when she has already turned away and walked down to the shore. She takes off her socks and wades into the water without taking her shirt off. Ha! I wash my clothes the same way. Although it could also be part of me watching her why she wouldn't...
She turns to see me standing there like the fool I am. "Alistair."
"Rori."
"Are you going to stand there and watch me taking a bath?"
"As much as I'd love to I doubt I'd get away with such a close shave next time if I did."
"Smart boy. Now make yourself useful and make coffee."
"Your desire is my command."
- 10
- 11
- 12
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In good times and in bad